The Only Exception
by xthefirestillburns
Summary: She was his patient; he was her doctor - nothing more, yet each and every time she found herself spilling her inner thoughts and looking in those pale-blue eyes of his, she couldn't help but feel an attraction. Sheamus/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N:** I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this, luckily this is just the prologue...so enjoy, guys. :)

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

The puddle of rain splashed against her sole like paint against canvas as she ran for dear life. She could hear the sirens in the distance with every breath she took, every move she made. They were coming. It was only a matter of time before they would come and throw her in the place where she exactly belonged.

"Alison, hurry!" her little sister no older than the age of eight yelled. Emmy, too smart for her own good was the only thing that was keeping her from throwing in the towel and just surrender herself as well as the loaf of bread and cheese they had stolen from the local food mart. Her legs were tired and were nearly ready to give out on her despite being nearly five minutes away from the run down shack she called an apartment. The pouring rain didn't help, actually making her garments even heavier than before.

The sirens were getting even louder. The harsh tone piercing her ear, causing her to momentarily pause to block the deafening sounds that fill the air. She felt her sister grab her hand before looking in those blue-green orbs of hers. Fear so evident. In all of her eight years of living, Emmy had never been as scared as she was now. A soft whimper escaped her trembling lips, fighting so hard not to cry. Something she had fought for the past three years not to do.

"Al, we have to-", then a gasp escaped her lips. Busted. From the end of the alley they could hear the tires of the police car screech to a halt. The doors of the vehicle slammed shut, allowing an echo to be heard throughout the concluded space.

"Don't make a move!" One of the police officers yelled, a gun in tow, that appeared to be loaded just by the way he was holding the butt of the pistol. Obviously he didn't care if the two culprits were female, justice would surely be served tonight.

"Emmy, run!" the eldest sister yelled, her order a sign that the child needed to run for safe shelter.

Her sister didn't have to tell her twice before she took off running as far as her little legs could take her. Never looking back, the eight year old ran off as fast as she could. Rain mixing with the tears that finally managed to pour down her cheeks after refusing the urge to cry for so long. The last time she cried was at the tender age of five when she knew absolutely nothing of what she knew now, and here she was again letting the tears that dared to escape fall down her cheeks for the first time in what seemed like forever.

When Emmy was no longer in sight, the older sister of the two took one glance back - her hazel eyes meeting the cold, dark, furious ones of the police officer. Her gut instincts told her to just stay there, so furthermore trouble wouldn't ensue while her mind told her to just run. Run like there was no tomorrow. But then if she did, that would put Emmy in even more danger and she didn't want that. And of course if she decided not to take the latter, Emmy would be in that one-bedroom shack all by herself with not a crumb of food to eat but the little drop of crackers they saved for hard times...and possibly a dead sister.

_Think, Alison. Think!_ her mind screamed. Time was running out and she hadn't made one move yet. Closing her eyes, a heavy sigh escaped her lips. She was going to go for it, take a chance. Her eyes narrowed at the dark figure at the end of the alleyway. If she was going to end up in jail for resisting an arrest or even killed, she at least needed to fight for Emmy, where ever she was by now. Inhaling all the air her lungs could take in, the young woman fled the scene.

But not for long.

Not even realizing it was there, she managed to trip over an old rusty can, lying about on the side of the alley. Instantly, the nineteen year old fell to the ground, muddy water and dirt splattering all over her face and tattered, wet hair. A soft groan escaped her lips once the dull pain finally kicked in through her aching body as she could hear the burly officer's heavy foot steps against the pavement - so daunting and obtuse.

She was out of options and the only thing she could do was lie there in defeat. Her body too sore to move and her mind too exhausted to think. She slowly lifted her head to take a good look at her surroundings, her vision blurry from the sudden impact. The first thing she saw when her vision returned, were his combat boots, his uniform, then that face. That cold, dark, stoneface and those pale blue eyes.

"What's it going to be?" his gruff voice questioned, making the hairs on her neck stand up. He no longer had his gun in his hand, but rather a night stick that he clenched as if it would disappear into thin air if he didn't hold it tight enough. His hard face grimaced when he didn't get the response he was looking for, or better yet a response at all.

She couldn't answer the question. In all her years of dodging cops left and right with a child who should've been in school, doing things a normal child should, she had never been more scared until now. It wasn't even the fact that he was an authority figure - there was just an aura about him that sent chills down her spine, making her completely inaudible.

"I said what's it going to be?" he growled. When he realized that she had basically shut down after that hard thud of a fall, he yanked her arms behind her back to restrain her.

Maybe if she had been a good girl he would've let her go just with a slap on the wrist, giving her the opportunity to find the missing child who ran off to God knows where. She always told her in case something like this did happen to run back to the apartment and she would be back soon, but things weren't looking too bright and the words 'be back soon' most likely now meant 'gone until further notice'.


	2. The Meeting

Unwritten Law - The Meeting

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><p>In all honesty, Alison couldn't remember the last time she saw a moon glow in such darkness or felt the evening breeze, that always seemed to be so profound at 8 o'clock against her bare skin until now.<p>

Three months in the county jail might not have sounded like much, but to her it was too damn long, for she had never stayed in such a confined area longer than three days, not to mention there was a child back at home, possibly awaiting her return. She wasn't quite sure how Emmy would react to her being back home after practically promising her before she left their run down apartment three months before, that she would return in a few hours after trying to scrape up some kind of cash to get a pack of cheese for the grilled cheese sandwiches she planned on making with the last of their bread.

Of course, unlike five years before when the incident of trying to outrun the cops, only to be arrested in an alley, in the pouring rain she did return to the apartment a few days later, this time she didn't and she was afraid when she did see her little sister questions of her whereabouts and the promises she made would surely arise. There was no reason to blame child if she did, though.

Since she was five Emmy depended on her sister to never lie to her like she had been so many times in the past or better yet to never tell a promise she couldn't keep. She'd much rather her sister be up-front with her than sugar-coat things she knew was too good to be true. If only she were like many other twelve year olds, who didnt think as she did. Then again, how could she when her daily life consisted of her trying to stay alive, when her main goal in life shouldve been just enjoying life like any other near thirteen year old should?

She wasn't even back in school yet, when time after time she had been seen shuffling and practicing with the multiplication and division cards she had gotten for her tenth birthday when Alison was making some kind of income for the two of them aside from stealing. After her services of cleaning shit and piss off the floor at one of Seattle's lowest grade hospitals were no longer needed, she couldn't even keep a job if she tried. She still needed to feed Emmy and by the time she was done paying electric, sewer, and gas bills that wouldn't stop increasing just because she needed them to, bus fare and reporting to work bright and early were the least of her worries - stealing things and selling it as her own would just have to do.

There was no doubt in the young woman's mind that if she could, she would've so badly put Emmy in school, but the thought was just too risky and even then, since she wasn't Emmy's legal guardian or even her mother, enrolling her in a public school would be rather difficult for not only Alison herself, but Emmy too. Straight A student the child might've still been had she never been held back and withdrawn from school, but they would never know that for the simple fact that the chances of her ever returning to school were slim to none.

The young woman looked at her surroundings, taking in the space that she had been restricted from the past few months. She couldn't deny that before she had been locked up and taken away she didn't appreciate the things that made up her world as much, but now that she was no longer subjected to living in an 10x8 cell anymore, she couldn't help but appreciate even the smallest things, like the trees she has passed by over a hundred times on her way back to their rat infested apartment building or the bird chirping she found to be so extremely annoying, yet at this very moment seemed to enjoy the sweet sound since she hadn't heard it in so long.

The landscape before her, as plain as it seemed wasn't the only thing she missed - waking up and seeing Emmy's smile, even when they were going through the toughest of times was an aspect she missed also, and she was afraid there would be none of that the moment the young girl seen her sister's face. Brushing a strand of blonde hair, a soft sigh escaped her pink lips. She envisioned this day in her mind for weeks now, planning out every detail, but like always when you think too much into something, nothing goes the way as planned, so here she sit back perched up against a bench not too far from the apartment building, wondering just how she was going to approach the inevitable, when she wasn't even sure how she would even bring herself to walk up those stairs.

Eventually she would have to, but when? There was no way she could stay out here til morning, not to mention there were just too many crazies who lurked through the neighborhood after midnight, which sped up the inevitable even faster when she really thought about it. The young woman pulled the beaded bracelet Emmy made for her the day before her arrest off her wrist, squeezing the flimsy object in her hand to relieve the anxiety she was feeling. Closing her eyes, she put the bracelet against her lips before slowly, but surely standing to her feet and heading to the place she was able to call home once again.

From the moment she walked in, Alison's eyes wandered around the tight hallway, seeing if anything in particular changed while she was away - which it didn't. There still wasn't a light the first in the hallway, making it difficult for her to get up the stairs when the only source of light she had came from the moon, that for some reason shined even brighter than usual tonight.

She finally reached the top floor, a fresh wave of anxiety passing through her trembling body. She might've never noticed the constant twitch had her hand never been placed on the door, hesitant and all to just knock and get this over with. She didn't understand how something like this came to be such a difficulty for her when she had encountered things that would appear to be far more difficult in the past.

_You can't stand out here all night_, her mind told her. But she could try. Her hand slipped from the door, ready to give in to defeat until she heard a pair of footsteps coming up the stairs. It sounded like two people were on the dark staircase - a mother and child to be exact. New neighbors she assumed.

Well, they sure did leave a first impression on her, because the moment she heard that child's voice she immediately thought of Emmy. Sweet Emmy.

"Damnit, I can't keep her waiting any longer!" she cried and knocked on the door, hoping that the child would not hate her for only trying to take care of her. Her knuckles wrapped against the door several times, but to no avail there was no answer. She always did teach Emmy not to answer the door for strangers, did she think she was one?

"Emmy, it's me Alison!"

There was still no reply. Now she needed to use the door key she tried her best not to use since she didn't want to scare Emmy by just barging in, unannounced, but there was no sign of her, so this was definitely her last resort. She stuck the key in the knob, turning it slowly, so just incase Emmy was indeed around, she wouldn't be too afraid by the unknown "intruder" being herself.

"Emmy?" she called out, her eyes scanning the living quarter for the light switch.

When she finally found the switch that lit up the living room/dining room, she was greeted with nothing at all. Weird. After her job at the hospital's housekeeping unit, she managed to save up over six-hundred dollars that was used when they ultimately needed it the most, which was what she expected Emmy to use. She had taught the girl at the very young age of six how to pay and mail a bill, yet like outside the door, in the hall, there was no light at all.

_Maybe the light just blew out_, she thought.

They could use candles for the night until she grabbed some from the store before making her way across town tomorrow morning. The young woman further progressed through the tiny shack until she reached the bedroom they shared. It was even darker in here than it was in the living room. She adjusted the blinds in order to see. Still no sign of her sister. She was beginning to panic, now, looking every which way for the girl. From the bathroom to the coat closet, she couldn't be found.

She ran out the door, not caring if she disturbed the peace with her drama. She needed to find her sister and fast.

"Emmy?" She yelled yet again, running down the staircase. She found herself outside standing on the patchy lawn, screaming the child's name over and over, more hysterical than she had ever been in her life.

"Em, where are you?"

Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she silently prayed for the child to turn back up into the building. She ran back upstairs, snot running down her face and all, fearing that something couldn't happened to her while she had been away. How could she have been so stupid to not think Emmy wouldn't be vulnerable in an apartment by herself?

"Hey, what's all the damn racket for?" An elderly man, around the age of sixty screamed, coming out of his own apartment. Judging from his attire, the old man must've been asleep prior to hearing the noise that caused him to jump up from his sleeping state. He stood at the top of the staircase, eyes demanding an answer for all the noise she was causing at nearly 9 o'clock at night.

"My sister - I-I can't find my sister! Please tell me you've seen her!" she exclaimed, grabbing the man's collar of his pajamas in desperation. She didn't even know this man and she was evading his personal space.

"Who?" He questioned, fully annoyed y the young woman who just couldn't keep her hands to herself.

"My sister. She looks as if she's around the age of ten or eleven. She's really small for her age. Please-"

"Oh, that's your sister, huh? The child social services came and took away a few weeks ago, because she was in there all by herself the last couple of months? You should be happy they took her away. What kind of sister are you? Get off of me!" The elder raged, pushing the woman away from him. He shook his head in disappointment at her before making his way downstairs. "I hope you never get her back - that'll teach you."

She couldn't even deny his words. What kind of sister was she? Stealing, not having a real job, and rotting in jail for months could've told anyone that Emmy didn't deserve to be in that kind of care, no matter if what Alison had been doing in the past seemed to be for a good cause.

Without saying another word, her body slid against the cold, tile floor, allowing a pool of fresh tears to cloud her tired hazel eyes and for the first time in a long time, she sat in the dark, crying her aching heart out.

_"I'm just going to see if I can get a pack of cheese from the store and I'll be back in no time, okay?"_

_"But Al, it's a storm out there and you don't even have a proper jacket, what if you catch a cold?"_

_The blonde chuckled at her little sister. Always acting like a worried mother when she should've been the one doing so. "Oh, Em, I'll be fine. Now will you stop worrying before you give yourself an ulcer?" She ruffled the little girl's hair and stood to her feet. "I promise I'll be back in a few hours. You can have the last of the granola, so you don't get too hungry. Remember: do not answer the door for anyone."_

_"I know. Be careful, Al, will ya'?"_

_The older sister stopped in her tracks just as she was about to head to the door. With a smile on her face, she looked back at her baby sister, "I'll try."_

_"Alison!" Emmy screeched at her only sister._

_Since the night in the alley, despite it being five years ago, the child still appeared to be shaken up by the whole ordeal. For someone who once loved the sound rain made as it splashed against the window sill of she and Alison's bedroom or enjoyed those many summer nights when she and her would get caught in the rain and lollygag out in the cool air all night long before they were called to the supper, that their mother spent hours at a time cooking just to see a smile on her daughters' faces and right just before she abruptly left their lives._

_Alison took Emmy by the hand and stroked her sandy blonde hair, "You have nothing to worry about, okay? It happened once, but that doesn't mean it will happen again. Now, do you think you can stay here by yourself?"_

_Emmy nodded, "Yeah, just as long as its not both thunder and lightning out there and the sun is still partly shining." She gave a half-smile. "I hate lightning."_

_Alison chuckled at her little sister's words, "I think everyone does, Em...they're just too afraid to admit it," she said returning the smile as she lovingly patted the child's shoulder to comfort her. She knew how much she wasn't over that night, so all she could do was try to make light of the situation since the night would mostly likely be permanently etched in her mind for the rest of her days, which deep down inside made her feel like a horrible human being for putting her through such a thing._

_"You have a point," the twelve year old laughed. "See you in a bit."_

_"Bye, Em." Alison waved before making her way to the door. Just as she was about to put her hand on the knob, as she always did, Emmy noticed something wasn't right. Her motherly instincts were kicking again for the second time that morning and she was only twelve._

_Anything as far as an unzipped jacket could get the kid started when it was Alison who needed to be worried about her well-being not the other way around. The blonde woman could only roll her eyes in a playful manner as she dropped her hand beside her hip - as annoying as it was at times, she was glad for her little sister's compassion since the last time anyone felt any for her was when their mother exited their lives. She stood there, in her same position as before, only turning her head to meet her hazel eyes with Emmy's blue ones._

_"Yes, Emmy? Am I forgetting something?" she said through clenched teeth, a small smile playing at her lips. She might have not thought she was missing anything, but look to Emmy to say otherwise. Her eyes glazed over to the young girl, who didn't say a word, but let the umbrella that she had just now grabbed from the holy sofa do the talking. She handed over the rusty umbrella over with a smile before saying:_

_"An umbrella. Its pouring out there, you know?" Yes, she knew, but an umbrella were the least of her worries. Trying to find some cash for dinner they'd probably not be having was far more important to her. Gosh, did she wish she could keep a stable job and not have to resort to stealing things or even begging for them. She was too old for this stuff and wasn't setting a proper example for Emmy. What if she did the same thing when she was adult? Anything for her sister was all she could think of to go through with such actions that landed her in the county jail at the young age of nineteen and made it seem as if she was nothing more than a freeloading, immature thief living off things that weren't exactly hers. Hell, it wasn't hers!_

_Alison gave Emmy a half smile before tucking the girl's long hair behind her ear, "Thanks, Em." She pulled her sister in a hug, tears forming in her hazel eyes for feeling like such a lowdown human being despite her reasons. "I love you."_

_"I love you too, Al."_

_**Whenever you're ready**_

She clearly wasn't in her right mind the moment those three words echoed until her soul, granting a startled, yet blank look to cross her features. Her eyes peeled away from the glass desk she appeared to have been studying for the past ten minutes to the blue eyes of the man sitting across from her. He sat in his swivel chair, hands folded and eyes so fixated on hers, obviously waiting for a statement that she just could not give him, for she had no clue as to what he even asked or stated. She blinked her eyes a few times before absently shaking her head, "What?"

The man awaiting her answer repeated himself once again without an ounce of impatience, "I said whenever you're ready."

_Ready for what?_

Then she thought about it: whenever she was ready to tell why she was exactly here, when the judge who made this court-mandated order already stated to him why. Maybe he was looking for answer different than what the police records stated since one would most likely lie about their reasons for seeing this man when it was quite obvious from the get-go - she needed to be here and she refused to be made a fool out of, just so he could feel as if he was actually doing his job, helping. She was sought out to be a reckless person, endangering others' well-being, when she was far from the person the state of Seattle portrayed her to be. No, she wasn't ready.

She crossed her arms in a 'stand your ground' kind of fashion before leaning her body forward, "Whatever you were told isn't true. I am no reckless human being nor do I feel as if I should be here."

Instead of laughing in her face or even reprimanding her, he too leaned forward, a soft expression on his face. That pale face, "Oh?", was all he said.

"Correct." Alison said defiantly, a grin on her face to furthermore prove to this man that she was here for all the wrong reasons. She could've been out of jail like she had been the first time when she was nineteen, yet wouldn't have to worry about probation since she had spent more than a enough time in there to not have to dealt with that, but no she was here, being expected to get some kind of help when she didn't need any of that. She needed to find her sister where ever she was.

"Well, I'm sorry, Alison yeh feel that way, but from what I read and was told, yeh do," the man said, an Irish accent dripping from his last two words. "Do yeh think stealing and attacking the elder should be a reason why yeh don't? Correct if I'm wrong, but you were arrested at the age of nineteen on an account of stealing, which doesn't bother me, because I think everyone deserves a second chance, but you did it the second time several years later when you took an old woman's purse and shoved her to the ground."

He continued, "Now, I'm not trying to make yeh feel bad about this, because its what we need and its all a process for these sessions, but you cannot sit here and tell me you don't need to be here when something like this can happen in the-"

"I needed that money, okay? Yes, I pushed her to the ground and I regret that deeply, but she didn't need it as bad as that sounds. I understand that we're supposed to be ending this session very soon, Mister..."

"Farrelly. Stephen Farrelly." He replied, the accent growing heavier the more he talked. "No, we are not done here. We have an hour and thirty minutes per session and we've only covered thirty. Look: you can leave whenever you please, but you still have to have a certain number of hours of a session and I don't want you to get behind on that. I am sorry if I offended you, but I just want to help you, that's all. I'm not judging you or anything, I'm just going by-"

"What you were told, that's right," Alison said finishing his sentence as she nodded her with a smile. "Well, Mr. Farrelly, you can tell the judge, all the correctional officers in that place, and even Seattle they can shove their little assumptions up their ass, because they don't know me and you sure as hell don't either!"

And with that she stood to her feet, bolting out of the door making sure to slam it as hard as she could. She'd be damned if she let someone act as if she had a problem when she herself knew she didn't. That damn pasty-white bastard.


	3. Deer Caught in Headlights

**Author's Note: **Chapter two is here, yeah! I would like to thank **Ainat**, **LightsOutx**, **dashinginconverse**, **Dashings Destinty**, and **Sakura** **Waldorf** for all the wonderful reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter as well, guys.

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><p>Unwritten Law - Deer Caught in Headlights<p>

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><p>A mother's first night away from her child always deemed to be the hardest, but for Alison the reality of knowing the child who might as well had been declared her own wasn't coming back didn't kick until now, hours after sitting in her dim apartment looking at the last few pictures she owned of Emmy. As she recalled, the night before when it was brought to her attention that social services came and took the child away, she'd been an emotional wreck, finding it ever so difficult to even breathe after such an outcome, but tonight held a different story: not only could she sleep, she couldn't eat either. It's not as if it mattered if she did anyway, for there wasn't anything in the fridge she dared to look in, yet the fact still remained she had no kind of desire to eat and would possibly starve herself half to death if that meant Emmy returned to her. No, the life they lived prior to Alison's arrest three months before wasn't any good for the thirteen and a half, but how did she know Emmy was living any better?<p>

For all she knew, where ever she happened to be, the girl who didn't look a day over thirteen was in a foster home, possibly being bullied by another child and too afraid to speak up. Emmy might've been smart for her age, but there seemed to a hint of shyness in the child, meaning she'd most likely brush off the bullying and go back go back to the multiplication and division cards she assumed took with her. She hated being such a pessimistic, but how could she be positive or even remotely happy that the child was no longer on her hands when she had no clue of just how Emmy was living? She could've been anywhere at the moment, a foster home as she first assumed, a holding facility where the children waited their new foster family, or even on the streets. She didn't want to think about the last scenario, for she couldn't imagine the small girl walking up and down the streets of this obviously foreign place with nothing but the clothes on her back and the cards that appeared to be her only source of comfort, especially on a night like this when there had been signs of a tornado warning since earlier today.

The thunder in the mere distance roared along the Seattle peak, allowing a wave of anxiety to pass between her body. Now she regretted not paying the electric bill as soon it came to her knowledge that her home was without. Maybe if Emmy was here she'd been able to keep her company and tell her everything would be okay, but she knew couldn't and probably never would again. Her sister was the only form of support she had, giving her the strength to actually continue the crazy roller coaster of a ride she called a life. Tomorrow would be a new day, but that really didn't hold too much of a significance, being that her sister wouldn't share it with her.

The morning didn't seem to appear any better for Alison. Not only could she sleep, but she didn't find herself up, ready to attend yet another dreaded session with the so-called psychiatrist either. By the time she had come to the realization that she was supposed to have been at Dr. Farrelly's office over an hour ago, her petite body staggered out bed, trying her best to collect herself due to the lack of sleep she had the night before. Staggering to her feet, the blonde woman headed into the bathroom to start her day, hoping and praying that she could still get in her session and make up the last one she failed to complete. God knows she didn't want to be there after her little spat with the Irishman, but since this was court-ordered, there really wasn't a way out of the visits - that is unless she wanted to go back to jail. Either way, she still didn't see any reason in particular as to why she needed any kind of psychiatric services since the thing she needed the most Stephen Farrelly obviously couldn't give her.

Brushing her tattered bangs from her face, her hazel eyes averted to the view before her once she found her way into the kitchen - such a beautiful scene just outside, yet she would be subjected to spending her morning with none other than the man who declared she needed help when she herself knew she didn't. Her last intentions during their first meeting was to get snazzy or rude with him, but she just couldn't help doing so. Who was he to make such poor judgement and go by what the state of Washington told him when first and foremost he hadn't even experienced what she'd been through in life or better yet her reasons at all for going after that elder. Well, just for Emmy's sake she would have to suck it up and deal if she ever wanted to see the young girl again. She let out a low sigh before finding her way out of the apartment, unaware that any minute now she would be greeted by none other than her angry landlord.

"You're two months behind on rent, you gonna pay up anytime soon or what? I've got other people who would gladly love to live here just incase you don't." The thin man said, irritation dripping from his every word. Quite frankly he didn't know anything about her whereabouts the last three months, which was good considering the moment he did, furthermore legal action would take place by slapping an eviction notice right in her face.

The young woman gave a nervous laugh before opening her mouth, clearly not sure as to what she would even say to the man. She surely wasn't going to say rotting in jail for three months - that would be valuable evidence right there that she couldn't manage the home even though that was the truth indeed. She stalled for a few seconds unable to meet her hazel eyes with his dark, brown ones. Joel, was his name. Impatiently, waiting for this seemingly dumb girl's response as to why she failed to pay her rent on time just like everyone else.

He lowered his head, inching his skinny face out as he gave her a knowing look, "Well?"

Alison fumbled with the bracelet made for Emmy, around her wrist. This man was increasingly going impatient, yet she was too at loss of words to say anything, something she clearly wasn't yesterday when mouthing off to Stephen Farrelly. If she wanted to keep a roof over her head she would get to talking. Now.

She stammered a few seconds, prolonging her awaiting answer even longer until she opened her full lips again, finally able to get out the words, "...I'm sorry, Joel. The bar has just been running slow as of late and between dealing with that and my little sister...its just been so rough on me. If you'll give just a week and a half I swear I'll pay you your money. Look: I'll even give you the little money I have, just so that covers at least some-"

Joel raised his hand, having heard enough of her sob-story, "I don't need any of your penny change. I want it all in full." He started for the steps and came to a halt before looking back at her. "I'll give you a week. No longer than that, because you should've had the money a long time ago, but since I'm a nice guy and you're taking care of that little br-sister of yours, I'll give you a little more time, but that's it. You don't have my money by the end of the week and you can kiss all of your things good-bye."

"Got it...Thanks, Joel."

The brunette man didn't say much of anything but a few incoherent words as he made his way down the steps of the building, money the only thing he cared to hear about. Once he was out of sight, a sigh of relief eluded between her full lips, thankful that somewhere underneath all the scowls and snorts there lie an understanding heart. Most people, at the first sign of a slacking tenant they were ready to throw them out on the streets. Fortunately for her, he hesitated to do so.

Her hazel eyes followed his every move out of the semi-dark apartment building before heading downstairs, her mind full of questions that not even she herself could answer. For one, she didn't know how she was going to pay Joel his rent with only the money she saved up (but used the night before) and then some to her name. The second, the rest of her utilities were bound to be cut off as well. She managed to pay the water bill with the money Emmy didn't use. Much to her pleasure, the water/sewer bill didn't cost little to nothing, so that at least took some weight off her shoulders regarding other funds, but not all. Some time after this dreaded session was over with Dr. Farrelly, job applications would be filled out, but until then she needed to get her head out of the clouds and haul ass. Now.

The bus ride there simply could not have gone any slower. After the third stop, Alison regretted not listening to gut instincts to just ride the train, but no she decided to listen to her head when her body told her otherwise. Making her way through the more affluent, corporate seat of Seattle, her eyes passed the hundreds of titanium and industrial buildings along the way, feeling as if she'd never make it to her destination in time the rate she was going at. Her finger nervously tapped against her thigh, her weight shifting in the seat every now and then.

When she finally reached her destination, she dashed out of the bus, grabbing a few stares from some, including the bus driver. The young woman made her way down the busy district, only now getting the chance to explore such surroundings when she happened to look every which way, just to make sure she didn't bump into anyone as she jogged past the many faces opposite of her. Once the office was in tow, the young woman breathed out a sigh of anxiety. She didn't know what had consequences would be the moment she reached the fifth floor of the titanium building, but she would find out in just a few minutes. After catching the elevator on up to the third floor, she found his office just as she did the last time she was here, the anxiety only now starting to eat away at her.

Holding her knuckles up to the door that read, "_Dr. Stephen Farrelly_" in bold betters, she couldn't help but at the last minute contemplate on whether she should just turn around and go back home, then she thought about if she did, he'd probably go snitching to the court about her absence and she definitely did not want that to happen. Just as her fingers were yet again prepared to knock, she finally realized the door was cracked and there indeed appeared to be another session going on between Dr. Farrelly and an old woman around the age of sixty. Through the tiny opening, she could see him consoling the older lady, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as she softly sobbed. And then, with that thick, Irish accent he spoke:

"It's okay, Rosie. I know it's a struggle, but...you have to think...Jim misses you just as much," his voice whispered against the older woman's cheek, "You're going to make it, sweetheart. There's no doubt about it." The chuckle in his voice managed to bring a chuckle of her own from the older woman. Could it be that this man actually did enjoy what he was doing?

_No, it couldn't be_, Alison thought. This was their job to act as if they cared, knowing damn well they could care less about one's well-being. For a few seconds, she couldn't help but actually think this man really did want to help her as well, pissy attitude and all, yet like before her set ways of thinking his calm and caring demeanor was all a façade.

Well, from the looks of it, the session wouldn't be ending anytime soon, so what else could she do the next few hours? It's not like she knew much of her way around here and she didn't have any money to spend on food, then again...she wouldn't need to. Not now at least, because just as quick as she went to turn on her heel, the door opened with her just standing like a deer in headlights when she had seen Stephen Farrelly and his patient, Rosie in the entrance of the door. Alison could do nothing but look back at the pair as her once fair cheeks instantly turned a rosy pink color. To say she was embarrassed was an understatement.

"Ah, Rosie, I'll meet yeh back here next week, okay? Yeh take care of yourself and call me whenever you think you need to, 'kay?" He smiled at the elderly woman before touching her shoulder and sending her on her way. His eyes turned to the young woman standing before him, the smile that once lit up his pale face, gone almost immediately. " You're late."

She scoffed, "You think I don't know that? My mistake, but if it's alright with you I'd like to know if I could make up my time or do you have another session coming up?"

Stephen ran his hand down his bearded face, "No, I don't." He sighed. "Look: I was just letting yeh know, okay? So this doesn't happen in the future." He started for his office, "I understand you don't want to be here. That's fine, but could yeh at least show me some respect?" He turned around and met her gaze when he was nearly at his desk.

Alison took a seat in one of the chairs across sitting across from the desk, "Can you not try to pretend like you actually give a damn about me? I know you're only doing this for the money."

And just like the last time they met, he never once laughed in her face for such rude accusations she made. The Irishman took his seat at his desk, being careful not to say anything that would offend her, even though she deserved it to happenly come her way.

"Believe me, sweetheart, if I was just in this for the money I would've quit a long time ago. Yeh think I don't care for your well-being, fine, but at least try to work with me. I didn't force yeh to come here, so if you'd like I can make arrangements for yeh to see another doctor, but just know, I'm not the enemy."

"Then what are you?" She seethed, nearly ready to jump out of her seat and just call this session a day, whether that meant more jail time or not.

"I know I'm someone who wants to help. And I know you've heard this before, but that's all I'm trying to do. Forget the court-order or how many hours of a session yeh need, I'm just here to listen, whatever your story may be."

She could feel the tears sting her eyes just from hearing those words. The last person who made it clear that they really did care about her was Emmy, surely wasn't her mother or anyone else for that matter. Before the tears could fall from her fair cheeks, she held them back. Not again. Alison wouldn't make yet another stupid mistake that would eventually come back and bite her in the rear-end. She already did so the second she left Emmy on her own. Never again would she allow that happen.

She would try to be a good sport for Stephen Farrelly, but nothing more. Trust had nothing to do with that. Not as far as she was concerned. She opened her mouth and for the first time since meeting this man, she put her immaturity aside to say the words,

"I'll stay."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Well, what do you think? Feedback is much appreciated. :)


	4. Small Talk

Author's Note: New update, yeah! Just wanna say thank you to **DashingsDestiny**, **Sakura Waldorf**,** PrettyRecklesx**, **dashinginconverse**, **Keeper of** **Oz**, **prettybaby69**, and **Ainat **for reading and reviewing, your feedback is love! Enjoy!

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><p>Unwritten Law - Small Talk<p>

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><p>The ball-point pen swiftly moved across the small note-pad, never once taking a break from the seemingly think block of text he'd accumulated over time, just long enough for him to get yet another reaction out of the young woman sitting before him. Any minute now he could pull away from the mini essay he found himself so deeply delved in, yet as it appeared, he deemed to be in no mood to stop right now-or rather anytime soon, at least, only furthermore keeping his patient hot on his heels when it came to a tolerance level. Before she knew it, three hours of her pitiful life would pass without Stephen Farrelly even noticing, solely from his lack of staying on task and having soe form of decent time management. Her eyes glaze over to the clock sitting above the small sofa, it's tick marks even closer than usual to the eye just from the droning session that wouldn't seem to come to an actual opening, despite not having any real desire to be here in the first place.<p>

By the time the redheaded man, sitting a mere foot away from her finally collected his own thoughts, he'd been a contradiction all along - suggesting that she do what's right when he couldn't even do the same, simply by getting back to the subject he'd yet to cover, so before he could scribble yet another word in that silly notepad of his, Alison opened her mouth since they'd migrated from desk to lounge area in order to say the most simplest thing she could to keep the peace;

"What are you doing?"

"Taking notes." He simply put it, eyes still focused on the material he considered to be valuable information. Now he was giving back her behavior from the other day, acting as if he couldn't hold a normal conversation, keeping their exchange of words short as ever. What a child.

"But I haven't told you anything yet - at least not today."

Stephen laughed, "I know, these are me own notes...Ah, it's kinda difficult to explain. It's like an observation. Oh, I think I told you too much already."

"Yeah, you did." Alison answered dryly before giving the Irishman a knowing look. "Is it an observation on me and my behavioral problem?"

The last few words came on thicker, more sarcastic than the others. She was trying her damnedest to keep her mouth shut and just let this man explain his actions, but his careless attitude wasn't doing her much of any favors since she'd much rather he went back to the attitude he had when he first saw her outside his office. Last time she checked, this wasn't how a psychiatrist worked nor did they spend nearly twenty minutes observing their patient as if they were some kind of experiment.

His accent grew even thicker when starting off his sentence, "Something like that. It's even a little bit of both of our notes. I'd just like to observe me patients so I can go about how I want to help them-or better yet you. Sorry about wasting twenty minutes of your time on that, I'm usually more prepared, guess I'm also going through a process of me own." He gave the younger woman an uncomfortable laugh when she'd fail to respond to his statement.

Clearing his throat the pale man flipped the pages of his notepad before looking his patient in the eye, "Shall we begin? Whenever you're ready, you can tell me why you're really here. I already know half the tale, but if you don't mind, I'd like for you to share the other half. If not that, just a little at a time so we can move onwards. Take as little or as long as you'd like to answer. I've got plenty of time," Stephen said more serious than he'd ever been since she'd first cross paths with the older man. Well, she hadn't bit his head off yet, so maybe she was willing to talk after her little tirade nearly thirty minutes before.

The younger woman met Stephen's eyes with her hazel ones, finding it hard to for the first time ever, tell her life-story. One that was only now beginning to haunt her, courtesy of this session with Stephen Farrelly. She knew she didn't have anything else to lose, surely not the diginity since she'd already been stripped of that the moment she discovered Emmy was no where to be found. Of course she knew her life-long confession would do her some good when it came to finally closing the door to the life and her sister shared back then with their mother, but that didn't mean it would bring her any closer to reuniting with the near thirteen year old, hell she still had her doubts about this so-called doctor of hers, so when she really thought about it, who would this actually be helping: her or Seattle county jail?

The blonde tucked her hair behind her ear to stall, looking out of the window as if the surroundings below her breathed of some sort of interest. The hundreds of office buildings and never-ending traffic was far from it, but she just couldn't allow herself to tell of her life-story just yet. As easy as the pale man made it out to be, it couldn't be any more difficult the more she thought about it since she wasn't used to confiding in anyone other than her sister and even then she knew not to tell the young girl too much since she was still a child, who didn't need to hear about things she shouldn't have to worry about, but wanted to regardless if it meant comforting her older sister.

Well, now it looked as if she was wasting the older man's time because she'd yet to open her mouth or even acknowledge his presence again, which only brought them back to square one without even realizing such. Stephen eyed the young woman, her body language only specifying that she wasn't even remotely ready to share any personal information.

So maybe that's why she always appeared to be in a foul mood, he thought. But that didn't excuse her actions three months before or the mouth she gave him last time. He was only trying to help. The young Irishman cleared his throat for the second time, "If it helps, you can write it down. I still won't judge you either way."

There he was always clarifying the obvious. He already made it clear earlier that morning that he wasn't out to judge her, so why did he feel the need to do it again. Quite frankly she was no longer in the mood to go along with this session after she realized she'd be subjected to confiding even the most private circmustances unto him, but he just wouldn't get the memo, which only furthermore made her regret the thought of staying here for three hours.

She felt his large hand touch her shoulder. The former criminal's eyes couldn't help but pull away from the setting below, her hazel hues ettling onto the young Irishman's ghostly-white hand, followed by his soft, blue eyes. Before she could gather her thoughts to process what he'd done, he pulled away almost immediately, mentally cursing at himself allowing himself to get that close. His light hues blinked from the incredibly awkward silence that came along with his bold act of kindness, practically knocking over the bowl of apples on the small table that sit between he and his patient. His tongue curl into a weird manner, granting a small 'sorry' to drip from his pink lips as he found it ever so difficult to look his patient in the eye as he did so many times before.

"It's okay," Alison added shortly.

"Great. Well, um...I usually give me patients a thirty minute break in order to do what they have to do; grab lunch, make a phonecall, you know? So either you can take that break now or later. It's up to you, I-"

"I'll take it now."

Like she had anything better to do. She had no car, phone, and barely any money to go out and grab a bite to eat if she wanted to. She didn't even know her way around here, so what good would it have made to leave in such a rush? Stephen accepted the young woman's request, being sure not to make eye contact with her. He was going to eventually, but for now he wished not to. His focus turned to the window opposite of him, "See you in a bit."

Alison didn't respond. Instead she slipped through the door, not sure as to where she was headed to, just as long as it was out of this building, far from Stephen Farrelly.

The busy district was as packed as it was hours before, doing just a little to discourage the young woman from exploring the surroundings she couldn't quite experience the first day of arriving in the fast-paced area. Now where would she go, though. There didn't seem to be a sign of a park anywhere, not even a bookstore of some sort to give her some time to think about how the rest of this session with the Irishman would go. She didn't want to think about the moment when did return to Stephen's office, but knew for a fact she couldn't keep mum of her story forever, which only turned her stomach. Her aching stomach.

The last thing she ate was a slab of dried meatloaf and a few vegetables the day before, barely picking at the garbage the county jail called food but still managed to feed to their inmates anyway. She recalled taking a bite of the processed meat, only to reject the shriveled beef in the process, all the whole forgetting that it would probably be the last meal she ate in a long time so she had better ate as if it were a full-course. Now she had nothing but a few dollars, plus a bus card to hold her over until she found her way home, her stomach pinching at the mere thought of waiting another two hours to fill its contents. Just as Alison ran across the idea of putting her petite body through even more punishment, a heavily aroma snuck up on her.

But from where? No, she couldn't give into the smell, she'd have to resist until later...at least that's what her mind told her, yet her body told her otherwise. The petite woman found herself standing outside of the bakery she passed on her way here, taking in the sweet aroma of various breads and other treats from the small shop. She'd be window-shopping today for sure. As her eyes peered through the glass of the bakery, her eyes traveled over to the menu, seeing a few cheap prices listed, but probably nothing she ate. Hell, food was food and if she didn't want to half-starve herself as she did the night before, she'd shut up and enjoy whatever they had to offer. So quickly, she picked up her feet and headed inside the coffee shop/bakery, a feeling of ease settling along her empty stomach.

"Hey, what will it be this morning?" Now it was her turn to order, her mind debating on if she wanted a croissant or coffee cake, the two cheapest choices on the menu. That wasn't even the hardest part, though: it was making sure that she'd be able to pay for the taxes. She knew she should've brought more money.

"Just a croissant and a water, thank you."

The boy with the caramel-colored skin and low cut punched in the numbers, a warm smile on his face, "Croissant and water, alright. You know you can also add some fruit or a yogurt for a dollar, it's today only."

Lord knows she wanted to but didn't have the funds for anything more. After this meal she needed to save as much as she could to put into the apartment she hadn't tended to in months. "Noo," Alison stated slowly. "I'll just stick with the water and croissant. Thanks anyway," she gave the young man a half-smile, wishing that he'd just say her total and she could go about her business.

"No problem. Your total is $6.13." He had to be kidding. Six dollars for a croissant? What if he charged her for that water?

"$6.13?"Alison stammered, her voice nearly inaudible. All she had was a five dollar bill in her pocket, surely that wouldn't cover the price for the overly expensive meal. Well she did discover there was fruit and yogurt here, so maybe she could cancel that order for a new one. Her small frame twisted in an awkward manner, hoping that he'd understand that she didn't have enough and could he possibly start over on her order. "I...don't seem to have enough...would you mind if I..."

"Just add it to me usual, Keith."

_That damn stalker._

The fair-skinned woman closed her eyes for a brief second before she was greeted with none other than the man she couldn't quite shake, Stephen Farrelly. His cerulean-blues rested upon her blank facial expression, he too having a hard time processing what he'd just done. Not long did it take for the teen behind the counter ring up both he and Alison's order, her croissant and his egg white sandwich and coffee coming in with the quickness as if he were some kind of higher up around here. He grabbed his food, once again keeping himself from making eye contact with the seemingly ungrateful woman standing not even a foot away from him. That would be the last time he thought about her well-being. In an instance the pasty fellow turned on his heel, stealing one last glance of the petite woman before taking a seat to run over some files and enjoy his breakfast.

"Enjoy your croissant, ma'am," Alison was broken from her thoughts at the sound of the cashier's voice. "Here you go." he smiled again as he handed her the small bag of food and her cold beverage.

"Wh-Oh, um...thank you." Then she turned her petite body towards the dining area, a few seats available in the shop, but most importantly it wasn't in the view of Stephen Farrelly. Did he think he accomplished something just by purchasing her meal? For one: she didn't need his sympathy. Two: she was better off by explaining to the cashier that she would just cancel the order, she didn't need him to buy anything in order to make it seem as if he were some kind of hero. Yeah, she could've said thank you, but that would've probably inflated his psychiatric ego - helping the people in and out of the office.

_No thank you_, she thought.

From now on she knew not to come here, seeing as that this was Stephen's usual hangout during break. If she didn't want to see him while the sessions were going, why would she want to see him when he was away from the job? There was too much of having to deal with his face for as long as she did back in that titanium building across the street, nevermind having to face him otherwise. Wrapping her hand around the cup of iced water, her focus stay still on the Irishman, his back semi-turned but just enough to see his face. The longer she stared, the further she grimaced at the mere thought of having to return to that office yet again.

Slowly, but surely her eyes turned away from the thick cut man, sitting a few tables over before tending to her small lunch. Her fingers parted the delicate piece of bread eagerly, hands ever so shaky from the lack of nutrition she brought onto herself, and then she took in the flaky dough.

To her surprise, though it just wasn't as good as she imagined. When she was left with nothing but a few crumbs and her half-drunken water, she couldn't help but feel a funny sensation trickle down her spine, her mind too oblivious to even prospect why she was only gaining such a strange feeling only now. She couldn't quite pinpoint her body's silly way of telling her things, but whatever it was the weird sensation wasn't just for nothing nor did it plan on leaving anytime soon. Clearly that had to do with a certain redhead, but her mind just wouldn't allow her to know that just yet. Would it ever? Grabbing the little trash she had left Alison pitched the contents in the trash, her eyes scanning the place for the man that starting to make her feel strange. He was nowhere to be found. Most likely on his way back to his office.

Standing to her feet, the petite woman made her way out of the bakery, that funny feeling still arising in her being every step she took, every move she made. Her eyes took a glance at the watch around her wrist. 10:35. Five more minutes. If she didn't haul ass back to his office soon she would give him another reason to have him scowl at her such as he did when she first arrived at his office, practically ready to tear his head off when it was Stephen that should've been the angry one.

The elevator doors binged at the final floor, leaving her a couple minutes or so to catch herself before she was subjected to yet another face to face confrontation with him. A light huff escaped her lips to catch her breath as she inched her way to the door of his office, the opening left cracked as it did when she first managed to peek in on he and his patient's session, this time Stephen the only one in his office. Through the tiny crack she could see the pasty man pacing the room, a pen in his mouth while his eyes traveled about to his handy notepad. A harsh thud echoed throughout the room at the sound of his notepad collided with his desk, a look of frustration evident on his nearly ghostly face. As he turned to look elsewhere throughout the spacious room, his eyes met a pair of hazel ones. Before the Irishman could bring himself to catch the lurker, they'd already disappeared. His fingers wrapped against the knob of the door, revealing none other than the girl who just couldn't a catch a break from, his patient. The older man gave her an uneasy glare, pushing her to say the first thing that she could think of:

"Sorry."

"It's alright," Stephen lazily sighed as he favored his aching temples with his fingertips. "Shall we get back to work?"

And once again the tingling feeling in her spine came back.

_No, it couldn't be_. This wasn't someone she could easily find herself feeling sympathy for. She didn't even want him to feel the same for her when he touched her arm or considered hinself trying to help her. So why the sudden change of heart? Maybe he simply wasn't as bad as she forced herself to think.

"Yes," she answered weakly, her voice not nearly as confident at the beginning of the session. She took her place as did Stephen, a had look on his pale face as he jumped to a fresh sheet within his small notepad.

He started off in an almost lifeless manner, "So, where we left off, would yeh mind explaining to me your motiva-"

"Thank you." Now where the hell did that come from? Alison blinked her eyes a few times, clearly stunned from her own actions. Somehow, someway, her stubbornness begged that she not thank the other man, yet mouth told her otherwise. Surprised of her actions to say the least, she was quick to shut her trap, not knowing what possessed her to start acting so...civil towards him. She couldn't stand the man, but here she was giving him gratitude when she made it clear unto herself that she wouldn't do such a thing since he didn't deserve any of the kind.

Stephen didn't say anything the first few seconds or so when the words exuded from her full lips, a stale look appeared to be the only thing that could make up for his lack of words. When he finally realized that she'd been sincere with her thanks, the young Irishman's face softened in the form of a half-smile, "Don't mention it."

Alison nodded, "I know I've been a pain to work with these past couple of days...and I'm sorry for that...but if you could give me another chance I swear I'll cooperate."

"You sure you don't need me to recommend you to another specialist? I'm just trying to do me job here and I can't do that with me patient biting me head off or not responding to me...or better yet responding to me whenever she feels like it. I told you before I'm only trying to help you, but I cannot do that if you won't help me as well...so either you help me and I help you...or this session is done here, Alison. It's just that simple. There are other people who are willing to share their problems with me, please tell me you can do the same."

"I-I can," she stammered. "I mean I can. I have a si-I have someone who would want to see me do this whether I feel as if I should be here or not, so I am willing to cooperate once and for all...with your help of course."

Stephen's lips coiled into a full smile, "That's all I wanted to hear. Now where do we begin, uh?"


	5. Rude Awakening

_Author's Note_: Okay, so it's been way too long since I've updated and truly am sorry for that, guys! Thank you so much **Keeper of Oz**, **DashingsDestiny**, **NeverGonnaStopx**, **dashinginconverse**, **Ainat,** and **xLou26** for all your lovely reviews the last chapter as well as those who have favorite and alerted this story. You guys are awesome sauce! Hope you enjoy the chapter, you might even see a few tweaks that I've made to this story. :)

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><p>Unwritten Law <strong>- <strong>Rude Awakening

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><p>"I wish I could determine that."<p>

Alison retreated from her spot near the window to the center of the room in a pacing manner that could only compliment the anxiety that crept unto her soul at that very moment. The task to tell Stephen what he needed to hear wasn't anything out of the ordinary for the young Irishman, although to Alison it something that was figuratively easier said than done given that she wasn't used to telling anyone that went on with her life but her sister. In her eyes Stephen remain in the form of a stranger despite all those many times he clarified that he could be trusted, nevermind that he was a doctor who's job was to listen to how little or big his patient's problems came to be - this was who he was, he just hoped somewhere down the line she could see he was that plus so much more.

His blue eyes settled on the look of discomfort that came with such wishful thinking that this session would end just as quick as it started in the first place, leaving Stephen no other choice but to extend the session by yet another hour the more she requested that it end early when they were far from covering the common ground Stephen sought out after when Alison finally allowed herself to cooperate with him. Her slender arms wrap around her petite frame in an effort to figure out what she wish to tell him, however nothing coming to mind but the images in which she experienced over the years, including outrunning the sun during those long, cold summer nights when she and her sister weren't sure what to call home since the apartment they lived in barely reeked of such words when one took the grimy atmosphere into consideration.

Especially now more than ever when Emmy wasn't around to liven the one bedroom apartment Alison wished to never return to when the fact the near thirteen year old wasn't coming back to unless she did something about the situation, which in turn meant she needed these sessions with Dr. Farrelly in order for her to prove to the state that she could in fact hold her own as Emmy's sole provider, a statement she herself knew was far from the truth by the way of their lifestyle before social services moved in on the child that didn't deserve the sort of living she fell into when their mother left back in the Spring of '04 - hell of a Spring break it was after the third day of she not walking through the door rolled through.

"What are yeh thinking about?"

Stephen seemed to have caught her off guard, because the moment he questioned her upon those words she'd fail to hold anything back in that instance in what appeared to be a heat of the moment answer. How easy it was to bait and reel her in when he'd least expected that she would give him an explanation. He was surprised to say the least, but nonetheless more grateful than ever that she finally opened her mouth to tell him something, whether it was about why she resorted to stealing goods or the house she grew up in when she was a small child.

"My mother," Alison's feet shuffled across the carpeted floor again until she found herself sitting in the chair across from Stephen's desk, her hazel eyes looking elsewhere but to the Irishman. "How she walked out on us...", she continued.

Stephen shifted his weight in an effort to talk face to face with the young woman sitting opposite of him, his notepad in tow. His large leg crossed over his left knee to keep himself in a comfortable position, for this seemed to be the start of quite the session. Finally. The young Irishman's blue eyes stay glued to her as if she'd disappear out of plain sight if he didn't stay alert.

His tongue curl in that weird manner as it always did when he formed a sentence right before he arched one of those red eyebrows, "Us...This certain someone a sibling? The way you talk about them they sound as if they could be," he added rather shyly, hoping the girl wouldn't bite his head off for possibly insinuating the wrong thing in spite of such actions coming with this job. "Correct me if I'm wrong..."

"Doesn't matter who it is."

Stephen frowned, "Just thought I'd ask. The way yeh talk about this person seems to be someone close. Can yeh tell me when or why your mother left?"

"You just wanna know everything, don't you?"

"It's me job. Yeh wanna prove you're not some reckless individual, don't ya?" The native of Dublin's words ward off heavier than he initiated. Lord knows he didn't mean to sound as if he were trying to get smart with the woman even though she desperately needed someone to knock her down a peg or two.

By the way of her odd body language, he seemed to have pissed her off in instance, her arms trembling as if she were damn near ready to wail off on him at any second if he didn't keep his distance with his annoying questions. This was exactly why she didn't care to come to these visits in the first place - after one question it was always another while the doctor fished desperately for future answers in the case of wanting to know more about their patient than ever before.

"If I didn't I wouldn't be here, right?" The blonde's eyes flickered to the window again, the only thing keeping her from going off the deep end as she did the first day she met Stephen Farrelly. Her body itch to stamp out of this room in defeat while her mind told her to stay - stay because it was the right thing to do if she in fact did want to prove that her actions three months before were the result of petty decisions, not some form of belligerent assault on another human being. When she took that woman's purse she expected to grab the hand bag, go about her way, and it would be over in an instance. Instead she found herself pushing the older woman to the ground in frustration when she just would not let up her grasp on the small bag that managed to hang on for dear life before her frail hand ate the hard, rough texture of the sidewalk. Alison was pulled from her thoughts when a familiar accent filled the room yet again;

"Well tell me why all the back talk then maybe I can gain some form of knowledge on yeh. I've known you for tr'ee days and I've yet to know anything about yeh until now!" His rough voice boom in the atmosphere as his lips quiver in such anger. The Irishman's thick accent drip from his lip in a heavy thud, bringing forth a few veins to become so evident in his thick, pasty neck.

If he could remember correctly, last time he managed to spew such venom behind his words it was almost seven years ago, a time when he was fresh out of out his hometown's university and into the field he'd study night and day for in order to learn the craft and also a time when he was foolishly stupid for allowing one of his patients to rile him up as they did. The third day in his office he found himself going head to head with a patient who in fact did go off the deep end, questioning his abilities since he was younger than most doctor's his age followed by mocking the way he went about handling his patients. Well this girl had definitely been added to the list, possibly taking him even further than when he went off on the last patient. He'd spent years recovering from the poor choices he made so long ago as far as going off on that patient, never wanting to relive that moment yet again for if he did bring himself to think it would be okay to handle a situation the way he did, he would've never worked in this building for as long as he had been.

Before he could say yet another word the Irishman closed his blue eyes in a matter that expressed that needed to calm down so that history didn't repeat itself. This woman needed as much as help as he could get, challenging her would not do anything but piss her off, but keeping mum when it was part of his job to ask her questions from the start so he could understand her better. Just from today the only thing he learned was that her mother walked out on her. Why? He didn't know, but if she could just pull her head out of her ass for one moment she could see that this piece of information would take them light years from where they currently were. What was he to do to make her feel as if she could tell him anything without feeling as if he were intruding in on her? Better yet...who could, seeing as that the more he thought they were getting somewhere, she would revert back to her old, smart alec ways. He always told himself the worst of the bunch needed more time to adjust to the whole process, however her on the other hand seemed as if she would never and to keep himself from yelling at her as he just did since she was so damn difficult to work with, it was better that he send her on her way to another doctor. Never in his near seven year career had he ever thought to give up on a patient but if they didn't want to be helped in the first place, how could he help them?

Stephen ran his thick fingers through his carrot-top strands of red hair, a wave of sickness washing over his exceptionally alabaster features as his cerulean-blues closed momentarily to grasp some form of mind. If he knew he'd have to wake up to this everyday he would've definitely turned down the thought of seeing a former criminal. "I can't do this anymore," he opened his droopy eyes from the place they sit in moments before, damn near ready to give out on him from having to deal with the woman- or rather child standing before him. He placed his notepad on the small table as his pen found it's way behind his freckled ear.

"Tomorrow I'll call up some other friends or doctors to see if they can see yeh instead, I've done all what I can do, I think the best thing would be to set yeh loose cause the more I try to help yeh, the more you're damn near ready to bite me head off. I don't come to work to have to deal with that. Maybe with a new doctor you'll learn to respect them since it seems yeh can't respect me." The former rugby player stood to his feet, "I truly hope you'll someday see that not everyone is out to hurt yeh." And with that, the Irishman brushed past the young woman as he made his way towards the door, taking in her features one last time before slipping through the entrance, and slamming the door with a harsh thud, making the various awards that align the wall, plus the windows rumble in such authority.

"Never again," he whispered to himself the moment he was out of the office, in the confines of his own being away from the woman who gave him more problems than he wanted out of a patient, most importantly one who needed this deal more than he did. Now seemed like the best time to welcome other patients who couldn't get in on his schedule cause he was busy dealing with her at all hours of the day.

By the time the sun set Alison slipped through the door of the one-bedroom apartment, throwing down the various papers she'd happened to bring with her after a poor excuse of a job hunt early in the day. Not one place was hiring or if they did no one was willing to hire her in particular, most likely judging from the odd look she didn't too gracefully pull off when she found herself covered from head to toe in rain water from the idiot in the Hummer who thought it would be funny to drive through the puddle of rain, knowing the second those grand tires rode into the pool of murky water she'd be drenched almost immediately. Right they were which left her no other choice but to finish her job hunt as her clothes stick to her body like glue, all the while silently telling herself that in no time she would be back home, snuggling up in a warm blanket. She wished the heat was on, blasting at full force to keep her just as warm but remembered since half her utilities were off, none of that would be happening anytime soon, however, thank God she would be able to pay the rent in what would appear to be the first time in a long time. Here's to hoping the loan sharks wouldn't come after her for resorting to borrowed cash this time, quite the contrary from the less than smart choices she made to make ends meet in the past.

In an instance her face dove into the ragged pillows occupying the small wicker sofa, letting out a light huff when she turned her cold body opposite of the ceiling, her hazel eyes vertical to the region to the point where she could hear the titter-tatter of the rain hit the roof of the apartment building as if it were pellets of rocks hitting in the surface instead of rain itself. Her ideal evening was to arrive through that door more than refreshed to have gotten what she should've off her chest to Stephen Farrelly by now. Instead, she was stricken with none other than a pang of defeat for letting her oh-so stubborn ways dictate her meeting with the psychiatrist of nearly seven years. How foolish she'd been to let her discreetness get in the way of an opportunity to prove that she wasn't all talk and that she could in fact cooperate with how the way things rolled between doctor and patient. At this point her chances of making up with the Irishman were blown, and who could she blame but herself.


	6. Closing Time

Author's Note: Finally got some to upload this new chapter! Thank you, **DashingsDestiny**, **Keeper of Oz**,** Ainat**, **dashinginconverse**, **ia178**, and** DailyxInsanity** for the wonderful reviews. I have not forgotten about reviewing your stories, school has just been very time-consuming. I still got you! :)

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><p>Unwritten Law - Closing Time<p>

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><p>There was nothing like the smell of fresh brewed coffee to keep him somewhat on his toes that morning. The line at the local Dunkin Donuts not nearly as long as he imagined in the first place, which in turn gave him a few moments, if there were any to enjoy the hot beverage in front of the park that lie a few blocks from the café as his mind went into deep thought over the last few days one could definitely call Hell on Earth. In what seemed to be forever since Stephen done this, it felt good to have the morning to himself even if it would eventually come to an end the second he was due back at the office for some work that needed to be done. Deciding which of the right medicines to prescribe to his patients, that didn't leave a sickening side effect while, making a clear, reasonable diagnosis for a few of them, as well going over his date book to make sure which patients were due back for their next visit.<p>

However, he wasn't complaining since the the nuisance who walked in his office two days before, presenting herself in the utmost disrespectful manner one could give him was no longer in hindsight, relieving him of the duties he confidently took on the first day it was brought to his attention that a young woman, not too far in age from his his own would be given his services. This wasn't as if it were some new task for him since she wasn't the last, hardly the first criminal he chose to meet with one on one, she was just the youngest. Not was it ever the usual that he found himself working with anyone who made the same poor choices as she did, possibly worse, although she deem to be the freshest, still bitter over the previous mistakes she wouldn't be running from anytime soon the longer she put up the tough exterior that wouldn't dare phase those who had far more patience than the Irishman.

Through his many years of education in the psychology field, Stephen found himself coming across the best doctors the west coast had to offer, a few of them he managed to follow in the footsteps of, others he wished to strive harder than, but wouldn't make improvement if he could just posses the same type of persistence as those who came before him, so the only thing he could come up with to at least get the patient he ultimately quit on (a constant reminder he would hold onto forever if he didn't look for an alternate tactic) the help she needed, he would try his damnedest to finish making those phonecalls to his mentors and whomever had the courage, drive, and of course the endurance he didn't have for that very patience. The best thing would be to contact a doctor who would put up with her tantrums, not to mention one who could easily get the words out of her that he couldn't.

As hard as it was to admit to himself, she wasn't the type of patient he was ready to deal with again after the tension that only accumulated in him yelling at her just as worse as he did the first patient who he butted heads with, neither of them benefiting him in the case of waiting out the bad, so that the good would come in due time. He was still learning the basis of psychology too, though sadly enough he wouldn't allow himself to go through the pressures of psychiatrists he admired in the past did. Quite simply, Stephen was just looking for the easy way out when it was all said and done, whether it looked to be that way or not.

His blue eyes settled on the small pond nestled in front of him. Ducks of various age and color quacking the morning away as a half-smile crept upon his freckled lips. This wasn't his idea of a morning that consisted of work, nonetheless he still had a few minutes to kill before he would head to the office an hour prior to when his first patient would walk through the door that morning. Brief case in tow while the secretary that sit on the first floor, Theresa buzzed him as a smile rested upon her lips from the sight of the Irishman, a second son he came to be since his first day in the building just under ten years ago. Pulling himself from the bench, his freckled fingers maneuvered their way into a brown paper bag sitting at the far end of the wooded surface. Thick fingers coax the stale pieces of bread into the palm of his hand, studying the scenery one last time before gently releasing the few crumbs in his hand onto the small waves that bunched together in the pond. Now was his cue to leave.

Easing his way through the titanium building interiorized by marble flooring, thick brown doors, and subtle lighting on the very first level, a tiny smile rested upon Stephen's lips as he a took in yet another gracious serving of coffee supplied by none other than Theresa. The dollop of hazelnut touched his lips, bringing forth a groan of satisfaction to drip from such parted forms at the mere sample of the hot liquid that for the second time gave him the buzz he needed to get his day started. His large hands raised the cup of joe above eye level at the older woman accompanied by a slight nod in appreciation for her more than pleasant hospitality, a pure contrast in what he'd dealt with over the last few days, but he wouldn't think about too much of that again.

At the end of the day there were some patients who couldn't be helped no matter how long the visits. However there were also patients he chose not to deal with, which in turn didn't do too much justice in proving he was on top of his game nor could he be actually qualified as one of the best in the Seattle area when he couldn't even believe in himself that he could achieve getting through the younger woman who step foot in his office days before.

His large knuckle jammed into the button located next to the elevator, taking in yet another waft of the warm contents at hand prior to stepping into the secluded area. Floor by floor the lift inched him on his way to his destination, the doors flinging open accompanied by a light bing the moment he was greeted by the surroundings of the sixth floor. Stephen nodded his head for the second time that morning at his various co-workers working in the main area of the division, settling his eyes on the door of his office after finding his way near the far right end of the department where his office was located. His large frame stepped into the quiet office, helping himself to another round of the strong beverage as he prepared to make himself comfortable in the space he would be sitting at the next eight hours or so.

The moment he went to pull the cup of coffee from his lips, he was thrown for a loop as he found himself looking at none other than the girl who he thought he sent on her way, never to come back to his office again. In an instance, the Irishman's hefty body stifled back, taking the hot beverage along for the ride, all the while failing to control the toppling liquid at hand as it bluntly splashed against his pasty chest. Not long after did it take for him to register the burning sensation flaring about his chest before a deafening yelp filled the air, his blue eyes clinching in agony from the sudden impact.

"I'm sorry!" The young woman exclaimed, eyes focused solely on the man she swore she would never see again, yet here she was again frantically standing in his office. Alison situated her hand on the older man, finding herself clearly off guard for her boldness, for the last time the tables were turned she was in a similar disposition. His large form sauntered from her touch to the far end of the room where another recliner sit, obviously still in pain judging by the severed groans that escaped his pink lips as well as the need to shake his hands every minute or so to release the frustrations that came with the spilling of fresh, hot coffee.

A wave of worry washed over the blonde woman's features for the second time that morning, watching him so intently from his desk. Taking a few steps forward, her foot lightly shuffled the coffee cup from the place it lie before against the soiled carpet, a tinge of guilt creeping up at her for coming to his office without notice. Thinking about it now, maybe it was a good idea to have not signed into the building in the first place. It's not as if Stephen was expecting her, nor did it seem as if he wanted her here after her last outburst. Alison grabbed the cup silently, sitting the empty container on the desk.

"Thought I told yeh not to come back, what are you doing here, huh? Yeh felt bad and decided yeh wanted to start over again?" His blue eyes darted in her direction, the look of agitation so clear from the once welcoming eyes who greeted her the very first day she met him. Alison had yet to say anything, but instead allowed Stephen finish doing the talking since one: she couldn't find the words to say to back up her reasons for coming back, while two: the Irishman had every right to be angry, she wasn't going to interrupt him after making him burn his chest a little over a minute ago.

Stephen shifted his body to gain a better look at the woman, a smirk on his pale face, "Oh, now yeh have nothing to say when everytime I've tried to help yeh you've basically bitten me head off?" A faint chuckle fell from his lips, "What are yeh still doing here, then? If yeh won't respond to me I'll call up security so they can escort you out, now what it's going to be? You've been here long enough from what I can see. What do you-"

"I came here to apologize." The blonde closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the quiet atmosphere before she found the right words to continue her statement. Her hazel eyes met Stephen's, licking her dry lips in order to keep her lips flapping since it seemed as if he was damn near ready to throw her out himself if she didn't get to talking. "I came here to apologize...and to say that...I need you."

And just like that his entire demeanor changed.

A sympathetic glare crossed Stephen's features, but not for long. The last thing he needed to hear was her sob story for the hundredth time about her needing his help, yet wouldn't take responsibility by allowing him to help her. He shook his head, having heard enough of her words, especially since he promised himself that he wouldn't do this again.

Stephen shook his head, taking a seat in the recliner nearby, "Yeh don't need me, yeh just think yeh do. I said before that I can find someone who can give yeh the help you're looking for because it's definitely not me. Yeh don't respect me, I can't even get through to yeh long enough to even get a word out, not to mention every time I try to reach out, yeh step on me hands. Maybe I'm just being stubborn, or maybe I just can't do this particular job. Who knows? But it's not like we'll ever find out." The Irishman stood to his feet, stepping closer to the blonde. "I'm sorry," but you're in the wrong place, please go now."

"So that's it? You're just going to give up on your patient?"

"Former patient." He corrected, stacking the few papers sitting on the desk in his hand. The native of Dublin cocked his head to the side, squinting his blue eyes. "Is there something you still need? I have work that needs to be done, yeh not helping."

The blonde rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in annoyance. Pulling herself out a chair, she took a seat across from the Irishman, irritated more than ever from his shortness. Here he was giving what she dished out again. "What do you want me to do, beg? Admit that you were right in the first place?"

"Never said that, but yeh can take it how yeh want it." He adjusted his shirt, cringing slightly from the wet shirt he would be wearing the next few hours, no thanks to the girl sitting a mere distance away. His thick fingers found their way across the buttons of his blazer, buttoning the jacket to somewhat cover the light brown stain that was a good size to have been noticeable. Stephen looked up from the stain, "Still here?"

"You know I'm still here. Are all Irishman back home as cold as you?" Alison brushed her hair back in frustration, finding the longer she stayed, it was just no use. He clearly had his mind made up. "Look: I know I haven't been the best sport. I know that because while lying down last night I realized how much I had blew things with someone who actually wants to see me improve as a person, Doctor...Mister...,"

A light smile crept upon his lips, "Stephen."

"Stephen...The only thing I ask is if you just give me another chance. I need this...not because I want to simply prove to the state that I'm not some ruthless individual, but because I have a-I have someone who needs me...," she closed her eyes, not wanting to repeat such words again, but knew she would anyway, "just like I need you. I'll tell you whatever you want, I'll cooperate for sure this time, just don't dismiss me."

Stephen gulped, "Can I ask you something?" He couldn't believe that he still sit here giving her the time of day after telling himself so many times yesterve that he would never go back, but things seemed to be going in a different route today. The blonde responded with a simple nod, letting Stephen know she had given him the 'okay'. He licked his freckled lips, "Yeh obviously do want to be here now, which is good, but don't make a fool out of me, okay?"

"You've got it..."

Stephen nodded his head, "Good, good. " He pulled his notebook from the drawer, turning to a fresh sheet of paper. "Now I'm going to try this again. Whenever you're ready, yeh going to tell me somewhat of your background. Anything yeh think will benefit yeh. Last time yeh started on your mother...do yeh mind?"

"It's not as if I have a choice." Alison countered. Her hazel eyes look elsewhere but to Stephen's, finding it harder by the second to stay secure in the chair as her hands slightly fidget from awaiting questions that would yet to be asked. They always said it was much easier opening up to a complete stranger, however that wasn't the case.

"Sure yeh have a choice," The young Irishman leaned his broad back into the chair, taking a good luck at the woman. He could tell he was just as scared as he was, he still fighting the urge not to make them return to where they once were before. His lip scrunched to the side, figuring out which was the best way to approach her without making it seem as if he were still trying to put her off again. In one swift motion his mouth moved, bringing forth that familiar lisp to fill the air as he said, "How has your morning been?"

Alison's eyes met the older man's in response to his query. Well that definitely caught her attention. The last person who stated such words were that of her sister, the only form of solace that came accompanied by their poor excuse of a living. As if it were yesterday, the blonde could remember coming in all hours of the night after working the graveyard shift at the local hospital in housekeeping, merely in the house no more than five minutes before Em came greeting her at the door. To say she was shocked was simply putting it lightly.

The petite woman licked her dry lips again, words falling from her lips in the form of, "Decent...", she nodded her head to clarify her answer, not wanting to remind herself that just a little over five minutes ago she was the one responsible for spilling hot coffee on his chest. "Decent." she reiterated. "Filled out some job applications and...stuff..." He was making her nervous by sitting there in silence, she not sure what to say next by the way of him never taking his eyes off her. "Yours?"

Stephen's lips curl into a half-smile, slightly bringing his massive body forward, "Aside from hot coffee spilling on me chest, it's been pretty good." His blue eyes sparkle a tad more than usual amidst the few sun rays that made their way into his office. "The line at Dunkin's wasn't too long and I found free bread on a bench today! Life can't get any better, huh?"

The Irishman's deep voice boomed with excitement, letting his boyish charm that didn't become apparent until now fall through, his accent even thicker than usual in the case of his rather jubilance. Alison couldn't help but smile just a little, chuckling to herself from the Dubliner's goofy ways. Stephen's face softened to a more serious one the moment the younger woman's lips formed into a subtle smile.

"I don't want us to hate each other, alright? You're me patient, I'm your doctor, we've got to make this work out for the both of us, you know?" The Irishman pulled another notepad from his desk, sliding it in front of the petite blonde. "Think this'll help?"

"Probably not...," Alison gave the older man a half-smile though the look of disappointment fell in pure hindsight when it became clear she still wasn't ready to talk to him. A sympathetic glare was passed her way by none other than Stephen as he could tell there still needed work to be done in hopes of making the girl comfortable. A sharp sigh fell from her pink lips, "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry for what?"

Alison shrugged, "For not reacting to this as quick as you'd like. I'm not used to this."

"No one is when they first walk in here." Stephen tapped his chin, "Let's try a different approach." He scooted his chair closer to the opening where his his thick legs sit. "Tell me whatever's on your mind. Anything at all."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

He was giving her the opportunity to express whatever was on her mind, she just hoped her mouth would cooperate with her brain for once by allowing her to get out the words she so badly needed to in the first place. Before she did any of that, though, she at least wanted to bring up the issue over spilled coffee not even an hour earlier, check on Stephen's well-being since his creamy chest still scream of that beet-red at hands of her foolishness. Alison mulled over his ghostly features, the red mark semi-covered by his button down, but not completely. Then she looked in his blue eyes, "Well I at least wanted to know if you were okay. That coffee, your chest..."

"I'm fine," Stephen added, a smile returning to his pasty features all over again as his voice raised slightly to clarify his status. "Are yeh gonna keep apologizing all morning long?"

"If it means I'll stop feeling bad. I wish I could buy you another coffee, but I really don't have any money for that, I'll make sure to pay you back. On second thought, I think I do have a few-"

Stephen raised his large hand, shaking his head, "Nonsense, yeh don't have to pay me anything. Now stop worrying, will ya? Yeh gonna make yourself paranoid."

"I think I already am."

The room fill with silence for a pending while, the statement catching Stephen off guard as the former rugby star finding it rather tricky to gather up the words to respond to such an account. Here she was again talking in riddles which ultimately wouldn't get them anywhere if she chose not back up her claims. What did she mean she thought she was paranoid? And how could she make such an allegation when she herself wasn't even sure of that? Stephen's face grimaced, hoping she wasn't peddling herself two steps backwards.

They'd made quite the progress since last time, meaning the last thing they needed was a simple roadblock in their mission to find some common ground with one another. He was sure she was starting to finally break away from that damn wall she managed to keep up for so long, he couldn't afford to lose her again to some silly assumption that she herself wasn't so certain about. Stephen's eyes hovered over her petite form, watching her eyes study the view outside the window, the only thing that gave her some kind of comfort in the poor position she into once again.

Quite simply she wanted to for the first time in years put her full trust into someone other than her sister, yet couldn't make it her mission as she eventually learned throughout her developing stages into a woman that there wasn't anyone she could trust beside herself and family. In terms of family, this only meant her sister. Not her mother who was no longer around to do her job in taking care of the child she abandoned before the age of six or her father who decided the best thing for him, (nevermind his two daughters) would be to catch the next train to Boston the second it was brought to his attention by their mother she would be expecting yet another child. The second one happened to be none other than Emmy, the one who seemed to have suffered the least when it came to him walking out on them when times were at it's roughest, but it was safe to say, by the way of her parents' piss poor ways in raising she and her sister, there wasn't anyone's trust she needed but her own.

Alison sauntered to the window, gaining a better picture of the city which now consisted of semi-wet roads, foggy windows, and a fresh rainshower to capitalize yet another morning in Seattle. "You know, sometimes I wonder would it be such a bad thing to slightly have a bit of trust in someone."

"I don't think it's a bad thing at all."

Stephen pulled himself from his desk to the sitting area near the window, reveling in the memories of the day before. The circumstances were different around that time, making him wonder would this moment at hand mean she would just allow him to get inside that mind of hers. He gulped back a thick ample of spit as he closed his eyes, hoping history wouldn't repeat itself for the second time. The Irishman took a seat in one of the recliners surrounded by the small table that held a bowl of his favorite Granny Smith apples. His large fingers tuck together in tapping motion, lips dry as ever waiting for her response.

"You're a doctor, you have to put some of your trust in your patients, even if they're some bum like myself."

"You're not a bum," Stephen retorted, blue eyes never leaving her back. "No, you didn't make the best choices when you were younger, as many others including me, but you're not some bum. The fact you came here, to make better of yourself means something if anything at all. Do you not have any trust in yourself either?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure, but since you brought it up I should probably thank her for that too." A tiny laugh fell from her lips to bring some light into the situation despite her knowing she could do anything but at this point - she'd already said too much.

"Who? Come on, you've got to stop talking to me in these little riddles, I can't help you unless you talk directly. Look at me!" Stephen directed pointing his index at himself, showing just how thick one's accent could get when they were at their most passionate. The young woman quickly directed her eyes over to the Irishman, jumping at his boldness. He wiped his tired eyes, standing to his feet before closing in on the woman, "Look, I didn't mean to yell at you, but Alison," it was the first time he actually spoke her name, he more taken by surprise than the blonde herself. "you've got to work with me."

Her eyes raise to his eye level, studying the older man's features to show that she was listening, "I'm trying, it's just hard...," Alison croaked throwing her hands to her sides in frustration. Her hazel eyes close, daring herself to pour out the tears that burn her light hues. She'd be damned if she fell victim to crying after training her mind to not even remotely think about such, however she wasn't winning this time around because at this point it was the only thing she could think about. And it was definitely no thanks to the Irishman standing before, making the situation that much worse with his kindness. Now she wished he was still yelling, wanting to dismiss her from his very sight by the way of her poor behavior from the day before.

Stephen sighed, "I know, I know. You've been hurt in the past from what I can see, but know that I'd never hurt yeh. Just talk to me...please," he pleaded, voice now faint as ever. "Who is this person whose hurt you so badly that you can't even tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

He took a moment to wander who exactly would stop her from getting out the information he needed, although it wasn't till now that the Irishman went back to the conversation they held yesterday, right before she snarled at him for asking her a simple question and right before he managed to walk out on her. And just like a puzzle, the native of Dublin gathered such pieces together, his blue eyes showing more life than it did the last few days, as it finally came to his knowledge the reason for her horrible attitude, the lack of trust she had in a person, and the pent up silence that seemed to have accumulated over time.

"Is it your mam?"

Alison closed her eyes for a split second, returning her gaze to the scenery outside, "And what if I told you you were right, Stephen? Hmm?" She laughed to keep from crying, though the tears were starting to spill out whether she forced them to or not. The young woman turned for the door, hoping to make a dash for it, "Is it break time yet because I really-" Stephen stopped her from getting anywhere throughout the spacious room. Not again. The Irishman wasn't going to give in to her evasiveness this time. Before she could open her mouth to rip Stephen a new one, the blonde fell victim to the older man's gaze, as well as his arms.


	7. Tensions

**Author's Note: **Ahhh, is this is an update? Why, yes it is! :) Thank you so much for the amazing reviews,** DashingsDestiny**, **HippieLuchaSoul**, **dashinginconverse**, and **BreakTheWallsx. **I hope you guys enjoy this update.

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><p>The Only Exception - Tensions<p>

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><p>The room seemed to have stood still that very moment. The tension at its lowest peak since their initial meeting days before, and for what seemed like the first time in forever, Alison felt at ease. There wasn't any way she could explain it, however Stephen's arms deem to be that form of solace she had been looking for since her younger sister was taken away. He had a touch that brushed along her bare arms like a feather, all the while a chest that was reminiscent of a soft pillow, not to mention a voice that a could soothe even the most fussiest child in order to whisk them asleep. Had it not been his profession to work with adults such as herself, she would've easily ruled that his next position in the psychology field would be working with children, putting aside the fact his tolerance level among other doctors wasn't the greatest.<p>

No, Stephen didn't have the same degree of patience as those he solely looked up to, though he was more than willing to give out multiple rounds of chances to people like herself. So maybe he wasn't the utmost best when it came to his profession - hell, no one was, but there was a something about Stephen Farrelly who made his patients keep coming back; whether they threatened to never come in for another session again, or better yet act out in the most volatile manner at the mere base of fear. By this time it didn't matter to the Irishman about the unfavorable memories he dealt with in the past, his patient needed him and vice-versa. They just needed to continue working together so they could see eye for an eye, as they were doing now.

A couple days before, the pair would've argued, Alison would've made it her mission to storm out the room before things could take off any further, and Stephen would curse at himself for even making an attempt at additional progress in case of the younger woman. Yet unlike the day before, and so forth, they were content in the matter of one another's presence, and they liked it. The sensation was weird to Alison, having never experienced the comfort of another man that didn't consist of a family member until now, but even though she the lack experience when it came to just accepting a simple hug from a man, it wasn't anything that needed to be stressed, because she still took the Dublin native's enfold of the arms in such ease. She let out a sigh of gratification. This wasn't her typical definition of comfort, though it was nothing short of what she exactly needed, even if she didn't wish to admit it out loud.

Alison's face lie somewhat in the crook of Stephen's neck. There seemingly part of her not wanting to leave that very position since it came to be a form of relaxation, a getaway from the madness that always reminded her that she possibly wouldn't get her sister back. One of the many things that did haunt her at night, this happen to be by far the greatest, as she didn't need a jog of memory every hour of the day to prove she'd done a horrible job at taking care of her sister; she just wanted to see the child's face again. So while Stephen's touch couldn't keep her entirely away from the less than desirable memories of failing her sister, it was a shoe-in.

Her eyes situated on the blank wall the near the window, taking in the Irishman's gracefulness last time before opening her mouth, "Am I supposed to feel this way?" she asked, still finding it strange to for the first time to feel good at the mere contact of a man. There wasn't anything romantic about the hug Stephen pulled her in - Alison herself could even admit that, but it still meant something on the basis of doctor and patient.

"What way?" Stephen noted. She wasn't biting his head off after the fact. _Success._

"Ease, assurance...," she gulped a thick lump of spit down before slightly pulling away from Stephen. "I'm not supposed to just let someone comfort me, you of all people. I'm not supposed to have much faith in anyone, let alone you; but most of all, I shouldn't need you, however I do." Alison shook her head, quite baffled herself by the sudden change of heart that stuck around longer than last time, "Why is that?"

"You're growing as a person, Alison." The Irishman's pink lips formed into a small smile, showing just enough teeth to compliment the rather jubilant mood he was in. He felt like a father watching their child take their first steps, only it was his patient taking her first steps into what could be the start of a mature adult - she just needed to continue on the right path by letting him do his job. Stephen took a seat in the chair behind him, folding his thick hands together as he always did.

He continued, "We've had our disagreements, butted heads more times than either of us can count, but as you can see now, we're finally making that progress. We're finally getting somewhere! You don't have to feel as if it's bad thing to need someone." His blue eyes softened to turn things over to a further serious matter. "I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want, but I'd like if we talked about her; your mother. If it ever gets too much, just tell me to stop and I will. I would never want to carry on, all the while making you feel uncomfortable."

Alison quietly spoke up, "I know you wouldn't, Stephen...," she gave the Irishman a small smile in return before straying to the chaise lounge just across from him. A tinge of silence lurked through the room again, bringing in none other than a nervous Alison to start fidgeting in her seat.

Stephen didn't have to read her face no more than once to know she was on edge in the case of sharing such details about the woman who seemed to have done more bad than good to her daughter. Alison's hazel eyes narrowed from Stephen to the carpet floor, studying the tiny fibers in the upholstery as if were far more interesting than anything she and Stephen needed to talk about. Obviously it wasn't, but neither was talking of the situation as if it were some cakewalk either; and Stephen could pick up on that. It was the reason why he hesitated to say anything at that very moment. He didn't want to startle her.

His lips curled into a half-smile, "I'm glad you know that. Just tell me anything you-"

"She couldn't take care of us."

Stephen didn't expect an answer so quick. He leaned in closer to grasp a better hearing of the story, his green notepad at hand for the first time that morning. The pen tip moved across the paper for a moment before his eyes returned to the young woman, who seemed to still have trouble revealing much of anything. At least she wasn't yelling at him, he couldn't stand to see her relapse back to the individual she was when she first walked in here. He allowed her some time to gather her thoughts if she figured she would go on. Surprisingly, her lips opened again to express more of the situation;

"She told us that she was going out with her boyfriend for a few hours. Told me not to call her, because she'd be right back. As you know, when someone tells their child that they'll be right back and you haven't heard from your mother in twelve hours, something's wrong." Alison shook her head, eyes unable to meet Stephen's as she could feel yet another round of tears start to cloud her eyes.

"I remember calling the police, just about everyone I knew - including the little friends my mother still had and the family she didn't push away. No one was able to give me anything. Everyone was just as clueless as I was about my mother's whereabouts. Finally after the third day or so, I had just come to the conclusion that she wasn't coming back. A part of me wanted to hate for not coming back, while another told me that there was no point in hating her, because she obviously didn't care about us." She shrugged, "The first night at her friend's was the hardest. Neither of us wanted to be there...so we left. Ran far away from the house as our feet could take us until we found ourselves just roaming all around Seattle. Didn't even find an actual roof to have under our heads until I was of age to work. Honestly, I don't even hate my mother, I just wish she thought about my sister before she left." Alison lowered her head, fumbling with the tiny bracelet on her wrist. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"Tell me what?"

"Nothing."

"Alison," Stephen cocked his head to the side. Not this again, she wasn't trying to fall a few steps back when she herself even declared that she felt good for once. The Irishman prayed to himself that she wouldn't sell herself short of what needed to be said. "What couldn't you tell me?" There was a moment of silence. The native of Dublin watched her fold her arms across her chest, clearly aware of what she was doing, but wouldn't say a word. "I won't press the issue longer, we can-", she cut him off again.

"That I have a sister, okay?" Letting out a wispy sigh, she closed her eyes. "I know it doesn't sound like a big deal to you, but she was the only thing I had left. The fact that I had been avoiding even mentioning her shows that she means that to much to me that I didn't want you to know about her at all. I didn't think you deserved to know."

"And do you still feel this way?"

"I never said that, Stephen. I just...At this point I didn't think you needed to know about her. Doesn't matter anyway since she's gone."

Stephen's face softened, "I'm sorry. I-I didn't know." The Irishman let out a tiny huff before turning the notepad over to the table. The slightest mention of the child changed everything at this very moment. His blue eyes met her brown ones; avoiding the urge to give her a look of sympathy for her loss. He didn't know anything of social services taking the child away, but that didn't stop him from feeling the empathy one would when the knowledge of a loved no longer being around came to play.

Alison spoke up, "What's there to be sorry about when it wasn't you who failed her? That was my doing, not yours. Child services clearly knew my style of parenting wasn't the best, so they decided to take over. I'm sure you know what it's like to be a parent, don't you?"

"Sorta. I have two dogs, and I know I'd be sick of they were taken away from me, much like your sister was." He looked at the floor for a moment before returning his gaze back to his patient who clearly looked to be overwhelmed at this point judging from the discomforted expression on her face. "I think you've done enough sharing for now, you can take your break whenever you'd like."

"You're not making me take one, are you?" It was a simple question that she asked; nothing like the motive she had in the very first place, which was supposed to be a smart alec. Honestly, it was weird. The fact she was able to tell so much to Stephen wasn't something she intended for, nor was it something that she wanted to do, however it felt good to get such off her chest, and for that, it was the reason why she didn't want to leave his office just yet. Maybe because for once, since her sister exited her life, he was someone from the outside world, away from the confines of the county jail who treated her like a person.


End file.
